Cowboy Redeemed by Parker Kincade
Excerpt 1:
“Most people call me Clay. If I can coerce you to put the gun down, I thought we could talk.”
Ainsley cursed under her breath. He was what she’d spent all night thinking about—and what she’d do if she saw him again. Those fantasies had nothing to do with kicking him off her property and everything to do with getting him naked. “I’m not doing any more talking until I have at least one cup of coffee. Come in if you want, but watch your step.”
He studied the porch as though trying to decide the best route to her front door.
“Step wide here.” She demonstrated by stepping over two boards to plant her foot on the threshold. “Avoid those and you’ll be fine.”
She didn’t wait to see if he would follow. His nearness renewed the ache to have him between her thighs. Part of her wished he’d turn tail and leave her alone. The other, more insistent part of her wanted him to drag her to bed and keep her there all day.
Clay’s boots clomped against the worn hardwoods. “How long has the porch been like that?” He propped a hip against the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. His short sleeves allowed her a view of the tattoo she’d been fascinated with last night. Black ink decorated his forearm, an intricate design starting just above his wrist and ending at his elbow. She itched to get a closer look.
“I suspect a long time. It hasn’t gotten any worse since I’ve been here.” She reached into the cabinet and pulled out a coffee mug. “Want some coffee?”
“Sure.”
“Sugar? I don’t have cream, but I’ve got milk if you want.”
“Black is fine, thanks.”
She grabbed a second mug and filled both as he pulled out a chair and took a seat as though he belonged there. Ainsley set his mug in front of him and leaned against the counter, facing him.
“So, talk.” She blew over the rim of her mug before taking a sip.
“Lemme guess. Not a morning person?”
“I like mornings fine. I’m actually quite cheerful when my mornings aren’t rudely interrupted by strangers before my first cup of coffee.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough.” He tested the coffee with a small sip before tipping his mug for a deeper drink. “That guy hasn’t been out here before?”
“Not him, no.”
“Someone else?” he prompted.
“Seems there’s a never ending supply of people around here who think I’m incapable of running this ranch.”
One thick, dark brow rose. “You’ve got experience running ranches, then?”
Ainsley drew in a breath and set her coffee aside. “That’s really not your concern, is it? It’s not anyone’s concern. Whether people around here like it or not, Mr. Nelson left this ranch to me. To me.” For reasons he took to the grave. “I’ll bet no one is interested in the mountain of debt the bastard left along with it, are they?”
Her temper mounted, as did her need to vent to someone, anyone. “Fuck experience. I’m smart. I’m a fast learner. I taught myself how to cook when I was eight. I lied about my age and got my first job when I turned twelve. I taught myself how to saddle and ride a freaking horse for crying out loud. There’s not a goddamned thing I can’t do, you hear me? I’ve managed to keep things going here without any major disasters and without any outside help. And I’ll keep right on doing it.”
Clay spoke, unfazed by her diatribe. “You can’t expect to do this all on your own, Ainsley. No one could. Not even me, and I’ve been a rancher all my life. There’s no shame in asking for help.”
“And you’re here out of the goodness of your heart? To help me?” A disgusted noise slipped from her lips.
His jaw tightened. “Something like that.”
Enough. She had chores to get done.
“You didn’t come all the way out here just to have coffee with me. Why are you here?”
He unfolded from the chair and stood in front of her, hunger in his gaze. She suppressed a shudder as his hands gripped the counter on either side of her, caging her in.
“I want more from you than just coffee, Ainsley, as I made clear last night. You were pretty clear in what you wanted from me, too. And before you go insulting me again, this is about you and me. Nothing else.”
You and me.
Oh, shit. She liked the sound of that a little too much.
“You’re only here because I ditched you.” She palmed his chest as he leaned into her space. His masculine scent filled her nose, made her want to bury her face in his neck and breathe him in.
“Ah.” Clay teased his lips along the line of her jaw. “And I’d still be here if you hadn’t ditched me last night. The difference being we missed the pleasure in the middle.”
Good lord. Her pussy throbbed, begging for the attention he promised. “Don’t blame me if you’re hard up. There were plenty of women waiting to go home with you last night.”
He chuckled against her neck. When had she tilted her head to give him such access?
“And that bothers you.”
Not a question—arrogant ass.
His heated breath caressed her skin. She shivered. “Not at all.” Her fingers dug into his biceps as he found the sensitive spot behind her ear. “I hardly know you. I don’t care who you fuck.”
Yes, she did. It made no sense at all, but she hated the idea of him touching another woman. It was an irrational thought, surely brought on by his talented lips.
“Such a pretty little liar.” He licked the seam of her mouth. “I’ve been up all night thinking about you. Thinking about this.”
You’re not the only one.
His fingers twisted in her hair and tugged her head back. Ainsley gasped and his mouth covered hers. He wasted no time. His tongue slipped past her lips, seeking, demanding. Coffee and sweet mint exploded on her tongue—an intoxicating combination she couldn’t resist.
Desire overwhelmed her senses as he devoured her, exploring her mouth with a thoroughness she’d never experienced before. She met his tongue, matched him lap for lap until her head spun and her body burned with need.
His hands skimmed her body. God, it felt so good to be touched. She didn’t stop him when one hand molded her ass to bring her closer while the other hand snaked under her shirt to caress her spine. She didn’t stop him when he cupped a naked breast. Hot and possessive, he squeezed. He flicked a wicked finger over her sensitive nipple, sending sparks of sensation down to her core.
Ainsley wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to get closer. His mouth broke from hers and worked down her neck, nipping and sucking, causing her pulse to race.
The hand holding her ass slipped lower, cupping her curves with ease. Ainsley’s breath caught. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized how close his fingers were to the wet folds of her sex. Another inch and he’d realize for himself she wasn’t wearing panties under her sleep shorts.
One. Tiny. Inch.
A phone rang, a shrill sound that broke through the lust-fog surrounding her brain. Ainsley jumped, jerking away from him as though they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t.
“Fuck. Ainsley.”
They were both flushed and panting. Clay had a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the counter, as if it were the only thing keeping him from reaching for her again.
“Sorry.” She laughed and clamped a hand over her heaving chest, trying to slow her racing heart. “I didn’t mean to … you should probably get that.” Since her cell phone wasn’t turned on and her house phone never rang, she knew it wasn’t hers.
Ainsley moved to the other side of the table. Space. She needed space to catch her breath. Not an easy thing to do with Clay’s rock hard body sucking up all the oxygen in the room.
The man devastated her senses. One touch and her control had gone out the window, replaced by her body’s demands of more and now.
Clay cursed as he pulled the phone from his pocket. His molten stare fixed on her, he answered. “Yeah?”
He ran a hand through his hair, his palm coming to rest on the back of his neck. “Yeah, I forgot. Sorry.”
Pause. He closed his eyes and his chest rose, as though he purposely sought patience. Or a way to relieve the impressive erection straining against his jeans. Ainsley groaned softly and forced her gaze away from his crotch.
She didn’t care who he was or what name he carried. She wanted to fan the sparks between them until they burned.
“Christ, Erin. I said I was sorry. I’ll be there in less than twenty minutes, but y’all go on and eat. Don’t wait on me. Yeah, yeah. Okay. Bye.”
He shoved the phone back into his pocket, his expression a mixture of hunger and apology. “I’m sorry, Ainsley. I’ve gotta go. I’m supposed to meet my family for breakfast.”
Ainsley felt a twinge in her chest. She glanced toward her empty table, wondering what it would be like to have people she loved surrounding it. Call her old-fashioned, but the thought of preparing a meal and taking care of those imaginary people made her happier than she cared to admit.
Clay came to her, his hand sliding up to cradle her face. “Looks like we’ll have to wait a little longer to explore this thing between us.”
“Looks like,” she agreed, suddenly fascinated by the hard line of his jaw. She talked herself out of touching him last night. Who knew when, or if, she’d get the chance to do so again. She traced the curve from his ear to his chin.
“You gonna object if I come back?”
“Nope.” Ainsley continued her exploration. She slid her finger down the line of his throat and followed the edge of his T-shirt from collarbone to collarbone. She’d count the minutes, if he wanted to know the truth.
Clay snagged her wrist, stopping her exploration. He brought her hand to his mouth and he kissed her fingers, one by one.
“Soon, Ainsley.” He nibbled the inside of her wrist, followed by a gentle kiss. “Very soon.”
Not soon enough for her.